Night of Regret
by Wyvern's Elucidated Brethren
Summary: When they graduated, they declared their love for each other. But now, seven years on, things aren't quite as happy. Harry/Draco slash.


  
AN: Got bored with not posting anything cos for some strange reason I cannot upload chapters for my story, so decided to post this. It's Draco/Harry slash, set seven years after their graduation from Hogwarts and declaration of undying love. Enjoy, my darlings!  
  
  
Harry sat and stared at the fire, nursing his sixth can of beer. Seven years, he mused. It's a long time. Seems a long time. Longer than a lifetime.   
  
Draco was working so much lately. Harry hardly ever saw him, save for a quick drink, a late dinner or those four hours in bed each night where he'd lain awake, just watching his lover, so seemingly innocent in the glow of the streetlights, catch a brief nap before heading off to work again.  
  
Draco worked as a reporter and cartoonist on the Daily Prophet, and they'd been working him like a slave lately. It wasn't fair, wasn't fair on either of them. Harry himself had played Quidditch for Hogsmeade Hawks along with Ron, but hadn't been going since the end of last season. He'd told Wood that he needed some time out to iron out some personal problems, but there never seemed to be time to talk, only time to catch a brief kiss before saying goodbye again.  
  
Harry looked at his watch. Four in the morning. He glanced at the bottle of wine left untouched on the table. They were supposed to have had a quiet evening in, for once, but Draco had been called away at the last minute. Again.  
  
And so Harry was left sitting here, the radio on, getting more and more tipsy, listening out for the sound of Draco's key in the lock, his resentment growing by the minute.   
  
Five minutes later, Draco hurried in, soaking wet from the rain. He leaned over to kiss Harry; Harry turned away.   
"You're late," Harry said in a dull, flat tone.   
"Yeah, sorry. Big story, couldn't get away," replied Draco, surprised at Harry's reaction.   
"You were working until four in the morning?" demanded Harry.  
"Well, I stopped off for a drink afterwards, if that's what you're getting at."   
"Well, I hope you had fun with all your friends!"   
  
Draco sighed. Harry was impossible when he was in a mood, which seemed to be all the time lately. He cast around for a subject, desperate to alleviate the tension that was seeping around them.   
  
"Oh! Holiday brochures!" Draco pulled a pile of glossy brochures from his bag. "Venice. Dean and Seamus went to Venice, they said it was lovely."  
"I can't go on holiday with you."   
"It's a bit wet. Well, of course it's wet, it's built on water, but..."  
"I said I can't go on holiday with you!" Harry interrupted, more forcefully this time.  
"What?" Draco was startled. "Well, why not? If it's the money..."  
"It's not the money. It's cos of...well, this!" This? What this?  
"But the holiday would sort out this!"   
"You haven't been listening! You never listen to me!"   
  
"OK, I'm listening!" Draco sighed. It was pathetic. It was petty. It was just like all the other arguments they'd been having lately.  
"That's not the point! I shouldn't have to tell you to listen to me! You should automatically know when I want to be listened to!"   
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Harry paused, thrown a bit by the tone of Draco's voice. Draco hardly ever shouted, he was usually the calm one.   
"Your boyfriend."   
"A bit more than that, I think, darling! Anyway, I listened to you whining on for four hours last night about your life. It's not my fault you gave up Quidditch!"  
"I'm surprised you heard anything, you were busy poring over those reports!"   
"It was for work!" Draco screamed. He rarely lost his temper, but his workload, the fact that he was knackered and the fact that Harry was being so bloody stubborn were hefting their weight against his self control.  
  
"Don't you think there's something wrong when you're more interested in work than you are in me?"   
"Honey, it's work, you know, where I spend thirteen hours a day slogging my guts out so we can go on holiday together!"   
"Stop this!"   
"Stop what? Constantly reminding you about how shit your life is? All you ever do is sit on your arse drinking!"   
"I'm not listening to this, I'm off to bed!"   
"You're not going to bed until we sort this out!" Harry paused momentarily at the door, then turned back to Draco. Things were getting nastier by the minute, and both men seemed determined to push them that way.  
  
"Tell you what, I think we should be honest with each other. You..."   
"Oh, honesty you want, is it?" demanded Draco. "Well then, Ace. What kind of stupid nickname is that? It makes you sound like a bloody porn star!"  
"You sarcastic bitch!"   
"Don't you dare call me a sarcastic bitch!" Harry turned away from Draco, biting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.  
  
He turned back, opening his mouth to say something cutting, but Draco was quicker.  
"Oh, and another thing, something I've been dying to tell you for the seven years we've been together. You're crap in bed!" Draco regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Harry paled, then chucked his drink over Draco.  
"Well, at least you've got your vibrator then!"   
"And you call me the sarcastic bitch!" There was a momentary lull as both men tried to figure out what to say next.  
  
"God, you've changed, Dra. Look at what you've become. And look what you made me become!" This stung Draco, and he pounced on the remark like a lion pouncing on an antelope.  
"Oh, so you're blaming me for your sexuality now? Well, as far as I remember, for the first two months we were together you weren't sure whether you wanted a woman or a man and at least I got your head sorted out!"   
  
"God this is horrible! We were so happy when we started going out." Understatement of the century, thought Harry. We were ecstatic. Nothing else mattered. It was just us. "Where did it all go wrong?"  
"I think it was when we stopped making each other happy," replied Draco softly, thinking along the same lines as Harry.   
"Which was when?"   
"I don't know," admitted Draco tearfully. Harry looked close to crying, and tears were falling down Draco's face. The argument had gone far enough and Draco was willing to put it all behind them and make up.   
  
"Look, just please, Harry, I don't know anything about you anymore. You've become so distant. Please, just tell me how you feel!"   
"I don't love you anymore." Draco jerked as if he'd been stabbed. He stared at Harry, tears falling so fast it was impossible to make out the other man's features. Harry was crying too. He'd turned his back on Draco and his shoulders were hunched.   
"Well, fuck off then," Draco whispered. Harry turned back to face him, eyes blazing.  
"No, it's my house, you piss off!"   
  
Draco stared at Harry for a moment, seemingly frozen. Then his mouth set into a thin line and he picked up his bag and headed slowly towards the door.   
  
He paused in the doorway and looked back, his eyes meeting Harry's, pleading and sorrowful.   
"Harry, I..." he began. Harry turned his back on Draco, and he lapsed into silence and walked through the door, his ex-lover's sobs following him.  



End file.
